


the little useless seam, the idle patch

by TolkienGirl



Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [272]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Conversations among friends, Fluff, Gen, Maedhros isn't here but his presence is felt, Mentions of Frog and Sticks being cute with Jib's kittens, Sewing, so you know, title from a poem by Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson, whittling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: "Does it still hurt?"
Relationships: Amras & Maedhros | Maitimo, Arien & Amras, Arien & Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [272]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1300685
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	the little useless seam, the idle patch

Amras learned, after supper, that Frog had named a third kitten Tig-Pig. Sticks said, despairing, that he would not be swayed from this course.

“I don’t mind at all what he names them,” Estrela said. “Only—Amras, was not one yours to name?”

He shrugged. “I’m too old for that sort of thing.”

Estrela did not contradict him. “There is one remaining, yet. And Frog will be glad for his triumph. Did you hear—I had to deliver them a little bad news this evening.”

He looked up, curious.

She explained, “Celegorm told me about the landmines.”

“Oh.”

“He thinks that Sticks and Frog should stay within the fort, if they are not watched.”

“Oh.” Inane, his answers—but the landmines sickened him, and then there was the matter of Estrela. Try as he might, he still struggled, watching her speak. Her lips moved strangely. Her words were soft-edged, mumbled, unless she tried very hard to make them clear. Amras asked—and he _knew_ it wasn’t a fair question, even as he asked it—“Does it still hurt?”

“Beg pardon?”

He felt his face flush. He stared down at the block of soft pine he was whittling. Its shape was rough, still. “Nothing.”

“I understand,” said Estrela, voice soft as the words, now. “It doesn’t hurt much, not anymore. I have dreams, sometimes.”

Was a hand different? Was a hand better or worse?

“You’ve been very kind, Amras.” Estrela was shaping her speech with effort, for him. “You needn’t be sorry. I know that it is difficult to look at. To think of.”

He felt that _not_ looking at her was the coward’s path, now. “It isn’t my trouble. I shouldn’t…”

She shook her head. “No. It becomes everyone’s trouble, for a little while.”

Did Maitimo—

“What are you making?” she asked. She herself had been sewing at almost every opportunity, assuring a suspicious Aredhel that she _wanted_ to do so, that she was making up for lost time. It had seemed natural to join her by the fireside.

“It is a cat,” Amras said. “I thought…” He did not suppose that Sticks would think highly of it. “I hoped the children might enjoy it, if it were cleverly done.”

Rough, still, but one of the paws was cunning.

Estrela peered admiringly at it. Her single eye was large and dark and fringed with long lashes. Whoever cut out the other had cut the lid, too. It was vicious. It twisted something in Amras. He studied the beginnings of the cat again.

“Wonderful,” said Estrela. “Very, very wonderful.”

Amras had seen Maitimo this morning, with Caranthir, and it had been painful as well as necessary.

Would all their lives be so, after this? Pain and necessity?

(Amrod hadn’t thought so. But with Estrela here, and only the fire to offer reflection of light rather than image—there was no Amrod.)

It was not fair. Maitimo would never have looked at her with horror. Amras must try to be like him.


End file.
